Love Your Life, Don't Just Live It
by iwantproof
Summary: Let's face it. Outside of work, Alex Cabot doesn't have a life. When she meets a carefree 14 year old girl, she begins to see things differently. But the girl has a secret. Will Alex be able to help?
1. Chapter 1

I was late, as usual. Damn snow. New York wouldn't even salt down it's own damn streets. People were slipping all over the place. I laughed at myself; I was beginning to sound like a bitter 40-year old woman, and I was only 14. Hopefully Vince wasn't even there; hopefully he expected my lack of punctuality. And if he was, hopefully he still found my tardiness and unorginazation cute, not incredibly annoying. If I hadn't have stopped for that coffee, maybe I would be on time, I chided myself. Ah, who was I kidding? I took a big gulf of the Macchiato. I needed the caffeine. Before I could look up from my fix, I felt a body collide against mine, and a hot rush of liquid spilling down my shirt.

"Fuck!" I shouted, garnering several turned heads in my direction.

A mother ushered her young child away, wrinkling her eyebrows in my direction. I shot her a sympathetic look.

"Oh god, I'm really sorry, I was just drinking this and I didn't look up?" I mustered an excuse as the pain in my chest began to subside.

The blonde woman in front of me nodded, and tried to get the coffee stain out of her blouse.

"It's not you fault. I slipped as well. The streets are still icy. Damn it!" she cursed and shook her head.

"Here I thought I was the only one who detested snow. Nice to know I have a partner," I smiled, and her lips formed one as well. "All that bullshit about it being magical. The only magical power that it holds over me is it makes me late."

The woman laughed. "A girl after my own heart."

I joined her in her chuckle.

"Well this blouse is officially done for," she announced, half concealing her disappointment.

"Where are you headed?" I asked her.

"I've got to be in court in 20 minutes," she told me.

I laughed. I should have guessed she was a lawyer. The perfectly tailored suit, expensive black leather purse. And those shoes. God they were certainly lawyer shoes. I laughed again.

"What's so funny?" she asked me, a bit amused.

"I just should have guessed you were a lawyer. I mean the whole wardrobe. The coffee. I'm just disappointed in myself that's all," she rolled her eyes, obviously catching on to my sarcasm. "Unless or course, you're the defendant. Should I even be talking to you?

She smirked. "No, I'm not the defendant, and I'm a prosecutor, not a lawyer."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "What's the difference?"

She took a moment to respond, taking a deep breath. It was so cold, her breath looked like smoke.

"What's the first thing you think of when you hear the word lawyer?"

"Sleazy. Vindictive. Cold. Curr-" I teased, pulling out every insult I could, before she cut me off.

"Very good," her blue eyes twinkled. "But you're thinking of a defense lawyer. The one who lets the criminals off. I put them in jail."

I looked at my watch.

"17 minutes."

"For what," she asked, confused.

"Till you have to be in court. You just spent the last three minutes explaining the non-existent difference between a lawyer and a prosecutor."

"How old are you?" she finally sputtered.

I laughed, and told her I was going to take her somewhere. To get her a new blouse, because she couldn't show up in court looking like she needed to start wearing a bib. She reluctantly agreed, which almost took me by surprise. She didn't look like the kind of woman that stops to talk to 14 year olds in the street; regardless of weather she had just spilled hot coffee on them. To be honest, she didn't look like she did much of anything besides work. Her face was pale- she didn't get out much- and circles were beginning to form under her eyes. She didn't sleep either. She said her name was Alexandra Cabot, Alex for short. I told her Alexandra sounded more like a lawyery name, to which she smiled and allowed her blue eyes to twinkle once again. Vince was going to have to wait- this girl needed a good time.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey girl!!" a short, African-American woman smiled, and walked over to greet me.

Alex and I had just entered a small store called Crazy, the name giving away one of it's attributes. Sure, it was just a clothing shop, but it had something for everyone, which was why I liked it. In the back there was a shoe section- nothing I thought Alex would ever wear- to the sides were racks of jeans, slacks, and shorts, and the middle was where the shirts were neatly displayed.

"Alicia!" I gave her a big grin followed by a big hug.

Alicia was an old friend, and the main sales-woman at Crazy. She had excellent taste, and I relied on her for most of my outfits.

"How you doin, Jesse?" she asked me as we pulled from our embrace.

"Good, good. And you?" I replied.

"Doin' fine. But you never come in here anymore," she complained.

"Yeah I've been busy. You know," I shrugged.

"Busy with that boy you used to come in here with?" she eyed me suspiciously.

I smiled and nodded; impressed that she could read me so easily. She was of course talking about Vince, the guy who I spent nearly every waking hour with. He wasn't exactly my boyfriend, but he was as close to it as you could get. It was more of a friends with benefits, no strings attached kind of thing

"Ok well we're kind of in a hurry, this lady needs a blouse," I pointed to Alex, who stuck out a hand and introduced herself to Alicia. "She's a lawyer."

"Prosecutor," Alex corrected, and we exchanged a look.

Alicia shuffled towards the back to pick out a shirt, and Alex turned to me, brushing a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear.

"So who's the guy she's talking about?" Alex crossed her arms over her chest, and raised her eyebrows.

"Ah, there's a quaint phrase that is oh so fitting to this situation. What was it," I pretended to ponder it for a moment. "Oh yeah! None of your damn business!"

Alex chuckled, as did I.

"Do you talk to everyone like this? Or do you save it for lawyers that you ruthlessly run over in the street, destroying said person's outfit?" Alex shot back.

"Prosecutors, Alex. Only prosecutors," I shook my head and turned to Alicia, who had returned with an armful of colorful shirts.

She handed them to Alex, who took them, and headed toward the dressing room. I chatted with Alicia for a moment, before she had to get back to work, thus giving me time to ponder the situation.

Alex confused me. She had a quick wit, and generally great comebacks, so why did it seem she was uncomfortable? She seemed reserved, unwilling to say more than a few things at a time, unwilling to give more than a smile or a chuckle in response to any of my jokes. Maybe it was just me, and my generally social personality that was clouding my judgment, but she seemed just too tense. Maybe it's just cause she's a prosecutor, I laughed to myself.

Alex's POV 

"I'm not trying this on!" I yelled out to Jesse.

I was staring at a black, silky blouse that looked a bit tramp-ish.

"If it's the black one, yes you are!" I heard Jesse call back.

The highest button I was sure would not reach above my chest, which in court, was unacceptable. I would look as if I was trying to seduce the judge, not win the damn case. As good as Jesse's intentions might have been, there wasn't anything she could do that could make me change my mind. I stepped out of the dressing room, and handed her the blouse.

"No," I announced, as emphatically as I could.

And then that smile. She was certainly the little charmer, wasn't she?

"Come on, Alex. It's not trampish, I know that's what your thinking. It's just hot! Is there a rule against looking hot in court? You're wasting time. You've only got 5 minutes, just try it on!" Jesse kept that smile graced upon her lips.

"I doubt that smile lets you down very often, huh Jesse?" I shook my head, and closed the door behind me.

I would try it on.

I buttoned it up to the top, closed my eyes for a moment, and looked in the mirror. Surprisingly, it didn't look that bad. There was a bit of lace on the collar, and it accentuated my torso in a subtle, even classy manner. Jesse was right, it wasn't trampish at all. It was actually, although it pained me to admit it, just my style.

Then it dawned upon me- I had three minutes to get to the courthouse. I burst through the dressing room door, and headed for the exit.

"Gonna pay for that, Alex, or are you gonna have to prosecute yourself?" Jesse called after me, amused.

I turned on my heel, embarrassed.

"Hey look. I'll cover it; I ruined your shirt anyways. You go ahead," Jesse nodded, and pulled out some cash from her back pocket.

I breathed a sigh of relief

"Or," she began, "you could ditch, and come hang out with me. I know a great coffee place. I at least owe you that."

She smiled that smile again, and I was a bit astonished as the word "ok" almost escaped my lips. Was I crazy?

"Sorry. My boss would have my ass. Look, thanks for everything, I really have to go," the excuse sounded a bit lame.

"Come on! When's the last time you did something crazy, eh?" that smile really was tempting.

I resisted, and thanked her again. I REALLY had to go. With that, I headed off to court. Almost sprinting now, the cold air pinched my cheeks, and I felt my fingers begin to numb. I shoved them in my pockets for warmth, but realized I had to first rip the tag off my blouse. I shook my head realizing I probably would have been more embarrassed had I had shown up like that than with the grotesque coffee stain splattered all over the front of my blouse. My ankle twisted a bit as I reached the courthouse steps- running in heels was no walk in the park. The slippery New York sidewalks were not at all forgiving to the poor women who get sidetracked by spur of the moment shopping errands, and charming 14 year olds.

Nearly out of breath, I raced through the crowded halls, just as the bailiff announced my case.

"Docket number 4275361, people vs. James Woodsen," the bailiff looked up at the Judge.

"How does your client plead?" Petrovsky asked.

"Not guilty your honor," his attorney smoothed his suit and nodded at his client.

"The people request remand your honor. It was an…" my voice trailed off, and I went through the all to familiar motions of arraigning a perp.

My thoughts were elsewhere though, particularly on Jesse, the wonderful young woman who had crept into my life. No. Crept wasn't the right word. Every thing about her was exciting, extravagant; she had arrived with a kick and a bang.

She was confident-almost so confident it made me a bit insecure. She had chatted with me like we were old friends, never missing a beat, always quick with a retort. The girl certainly had a wit. There was something about her that made me a bit uncomfortable, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was. In the back of my mind the devil pranced about though, whispering into my ears. As much as I tried to push him away, my inner conscience knew- I was a bit jelous of her.

She seemed to know exactly what she wanted; she was in control, which was something I longed for. I was still searching, and I felt I was getting anxious. Contentment was never anything familiar to me, I always wanted to be better, to be the best.

But there was something else too. I had really wanted to play hooky, and go off, gallivanting to who knows where with her. She was basically a complete stranger, and I had an important case, what was I thinking? And when I had said no, like any sane, responsible adult would, she had seemed disappointed. Like I was letting her down. What was that that she had said? When was the last time I did something crazy? I thought back, reaching, clawing for something that could put my mind to rest. I did plenty of wild things when I was young, but now I was an adult, now I had responsibilities. Like the prosecutor I was, I convinced myself I had no time, no reason, and no freedom to do such things anymore.

"Alex," a familiar voice jarred me from my musings.

"Liz," I greeted her curtly.

"We have some work to-," she stopped, and looked at me, a bit surreptitiously. "Nice shirt, Alex."

Thank you, Jesse, I mouthed.


End file.
